Hermione one half
by Akira Takahashi
Summary: Hermione comes face-to-face with the cursed Jusenkyo springs.
1. The Springs of Jusenkyo: The Perfect Vac

**Hermione ½**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter or Ranma ½.

Note: This really horrible fan-fiction is something that I thought would be interesting. Read at your own risk. It takes place from Hermione's POV, which I am not good at writing, so bear with me. It's almost 1:00 in the morning, and my mind is off somewhere else right now. It'll get better.

**Chapter 1:**

**The Springs of Juseknyo: The Perfect Vacation Spot?**

It seemed like the perfect summer day; birds singing, voices laughing, and all around plants were blooming and full of life. Such a fine day, however, didn't seem to cheer Hermione Granger up in the slightest way. The end of her 5th year at Hogwarts was a disaster! She had regained consciousness only to learn that Sirius Black had perished and that the prophesy had been destroyed. Voldemort was back at full power, and poor Harry was probably feeling full of sorrow; a sorrow he was trying his best to hide from everyone else. Hermione, however, could see it in his eyes.

The worst part of all this was the fact that she couldn't say a word to her Muggle parents! And even if she did talk to them about her troubles, she figured that they wouldn't be able to help at all. They hadn't an idea as to what the magical world was up against.

However, they did manage to get it through their heads that it had certainly been a tough year, so they planned an exotic trip to China as a family vacation. Mr. Granger was always fascinated by their culture and hoped to extend his enthusiasms into his family. Thus, two weeks before the start of the new year, the Grangers found themselves on a plane heading straight for China.

As the plane took off, Hermione found herself chuckling softly to herself as she imagined what Arthur Weaslely would think if he saw her flying around in a hunk of metal. However, she had to admit, it was more convenient than flying on a broom all the way to China. It was just too bad they couldn't just find a port key that would lead directly to wherever it was that they were going.

Hermione spent the entire flight with her nose in a book, which was hardly a shock to her parents, who conversed quietly about what the tours would be like and such. They only hoped that they could manage to cheer their daughter up somewhat, or at least pull out of her what was wrong.

Upon arriving in China, the Grangers immediately unpacked their belongings and stuck them in the hotel room. It was a rather small room, but comfortable. The hotel was 5 stories high, and the Grangers were on the fifth floor, room 721. The two beds were relatively large, and Hermione had one all to herself. The walls were lined with pictures of ancient China, and even the curtains were made to look old.

"Well, this is it!" Mr. Granger exclaimed, as he set down the remainder of the luggage. Hermione couldn't tell whether he was forcing a smile for her sake or whether he was just really excited about the whole thing; maybe it was both.

"It certainly is lovely," replied Mrs. Granger. She brushed her thick brown hair from her eyes and inspected their room more closely. However, she quickly directed her gaze towards her daughter, who was busy fumbling with the strap on her suitcase, which had previously broke from the weight of her schoolbooks.

Hermione managed to look up from her suitcase to notice her mother and said, in a soft, but audible voice, "Yes, it's nice."

She noticed that her parents didn't seem quite satisfied with her answer, so she continued on in her usual matter-of-fact tone, "The Chinese certainly strive to preserve their heritage." She pointed vaguely at the paintings on the walls.

"Of course they do!" replied Mr. Granger. "The Chinese are very proud people, and their heritage is so fascinating, why, anybody would preserve it."

Hermione forced a small smile in regards to her father's enthusiasm before changing into night-wear. The plane didn't reach the airport until late that night, and she was feeling extremely tired.

Mr. Granger stood in the middle of the room and stated, "Tomorrow's agenda is this: go sight-seeing in any place that looks interesting. Our tours don't start until later in the week."

He and his wife then crawled into one of the beds, as did Hermione, and the lights went out.

During the night, Hermione dreamt of sad happenings. She pictured Sirius Black clearly in her mind. He was standing in a dark room with no furniture and no lights; his face bore a smile that seemed to stretch from ear to ear, and his eyes sparkled gently. However, his joyful, yet relaxed face, soon turned into that of sheer horror, and in an instant, almost simultaneously, fresh blood spewed from his back, creating puddles on the floor. Hermione felt her insides churn as she beheld her friend fall to the floor in a heap of blood. Then, out of the darkness, the figure of Lord Voldemort, the most feared wizard in history, became present. Sirius' blood was splattered on his robes, and the wizard raised his wand and pointed it directly at Hermione.

"Wake up, sleepy head!" called the cheerful voice of her mother.

Hermione woke with a jolt and peered around the room. She felt a warm tear form in the corner of her eye, but she wiped it away quickly before her parents noticed.

"We have a big day ahead of us!" said Mr. Granger as he entered from the shower. "Now get dressed and grab something to eat. There's a free breakfast downstairs, so eat to your fill."

Hermione got up and moved over to her trunk. Sorting through it, she decided on a plain T-Shirt and a pair of jeans, and, after getting dressed, went to eat breakfast.

The hallway leading to the elevator was completely empty. She liked it that way because it allowed her to clearly think.

_"I should probably write to Harry,"_ she thought to herself as she walked, slouching slightly, to the elevator. _"He's probably in more pain than any of us. In fact, my own pain is probably less than half of what he's feeling right now! But I can't talk to him while I'm here; I've no owl to send letters to him, and I can't use Ron's owl because I don't think the poor thing to make the journey here!_

_ "Maybe it's best that I don't talk to him, though. After all of that, I don't think I'd want to be bothered with sympathy or empathy. But I also don't want him to think I'm un-caring or something – I've spoken to him so little since we departed from the train."_

She reached the elevator and tried to put all thoughts of Harry and the late Sirius Black from her mind. Rather she spent the brief ride down thinking about what sorts of things there was to see in China.

China, she had read, was one place in ancient history where muggles and wizards lived together, in a certain sense. At least, the muggles were aware that there was magic around them – they just associated it with gods rather than with other human beings. Hermione hoped to uncover some of the secrets that linked the muggle world and the wizard world together.

The elevator came to a halt, and Hermione immediately smelled exotic foods. The breakfast room was just to her left, and she entered it without much of an appetite. Her eyes scanned all of the Chinese noodles and such that they called 'breakfast food', and eventually decided on some fortune cookies for breakfast. It wasn't much, but she really didn't feel like eating.

She had barely finished one, however, when her parents entered. Taking a bowl, her mother quickly walked over to a bucket of rice and, dumping some in her bowl, took a seat next to Hermione. Before eating, though, she reached into her purse and tackled her daughter's hair with a hairbrush.

"Hermione, I shouldn't have to remind you to do this every morning," she scolded.

"Sorry," muttered Hermione.

Her father sat down with a whole dish of exotic noodles and began eating them eagerly.

"Are we taking a bus?" Hermione asked, having finished off her cookies.

"Nope," replied her father between bites.

"Your father and I have decided to just walk around a bit and see if there's anything interesting to see." Mrs. Granger stuck the little brush back into her purse.

"I was reading this brochure in our hotel room," Mr. Granger said, "that mentions this place called the Cursed Jusenkyo Springs near the hotel that I thought we'd might like to visit. It didn't say much of anything about it, but I figured that they would grab your attention."

"It does sound interesting," Hermione admitted, "but what are they."

"Like I said, the brochure didn't say much. It only said that there were over 700 springs, each with its own curse."

Now she felt really excited! It was just the thing she'd hoped for. Perhaps China wouldn't be so bad after all.

The second they had finished eating, Mr. Granger was leading them down the street and to the Jusenkyo springs. They barely had time to notice all of the artifacts that surrounded them. Old buildings stood brilliantly through the trees. Nearly every design ever etched into them was apparent in the morning sun. Despite the rush, Hermione was able to snap a few photos. Since nothing was moving, she didn't feel the need to develop them in the wizarding world.

After about 15 minutes of walking, the Grangers finally found themselves standing before the multitudes of cursed springs. There were poles sticking up all around, tall and slender, and a short Chinese man with a dull expression stood before the springs.

"Welcome," he said as the Grangers approached. "I tell you about springs, yes?"

"We'd love to know more about them," Mr. Granger said excitedly as he eyed the springs.

"Each spring is cursed. Whoever fall into spring, take form of whatever drowned there last."

This caught Hermione's attention more than anything. She had never heard of this kind of magic. Perhaps the knowledge of the spell had passed away? Whatever it was, she was definitely researching this when she got back to Hogwarts!

"Fascinating!" her mother whispered.

"Not much more is known about them than that," continued the guide. "You can walk around, yes, but should know about work being done near far end."

Mr. Granger thanked the man and he and the rest of the family began to walk around the perimeter of the springs.

"I wonder what makes them cursed," said Hermione softly as they continued.

"If you find out, tell me," her father replied. He patted her on the back affectionately, happy that he was spending quality time with his daughter.

One particularly large spring had a wooden bridge above it. Only about ten yards away was a construction site. Hermione felt a little nervous, but assured herself that nothing bad could happen.

Her family crossed the narrow bridge single-file, Hermione being the tail-end, her mother being in the lead. Mr. Granger wanted to stay in the middle so he could keep an eye on everybody.

Mrs. Granger stepped back onto the ground with ease and waited for everyone else. Mr. Granger had neared the end of the bridge when there was an explosion at the construction site. In a flash, some stray debris came soaring directly at Hermione, but rather than hit her, it went crashing into the support beams under the bridge, causing it to collapse. Both Hermione and her father went crashing into the spring under them.

She sank into the water, and had just started to climb towards the surface when her body froze. A tingling sensation swept over her, and for a moment, she thought she was paralyzed. A surge of pain ran through her body; she could feel her bones rearranging themselves. She could feel herself changing shape in slight ways and her mind raced. But in only a few moments, the sensations passed leaving her somewhat light-headed. An arm wrapped around her body and lifted her to the surface. She was, in fact, in her father's arms, being held tight.

She heard her mother scream and opened her eyes in time to see the guide and several workers from the construction site rushing over.

"Oh, yes, fall in that spring very bad!" the guide said almost frantically. "That called Spring of Drowned Boy. Whoever fall in that spring take form of boy. Of course, since father already boy, it no affect him."

Hermione's eyes widened. Mrs. Granger had begun to cry and the workers immediately began to apologize. Mr. Granger held his son tightly and whispered words of comfort into his ears. It was all happening so fast! Hermione lost consciousness.

Well? Was it that bad? Was it readable? Please review! I'm sorry that it took so long to get going! The next chapters won't take so long, I don't think. For upcoming chapters: how will Hermione deal with her/his new curse, and what will Harry and Ron think? I'm not good at writing stories from a girl's POV, but I thought it would be an interesting change from the usual Spring of Drowned Girl stuff.


	2. Family and Friends?

**Disclaimer:** I still don't own Harry Potter or Ranma ½, although I must confess, I wish that Hogwarts owned me! At least it owns my imagination!

Note: Okay, chapter 2 is now up! Hopefully, it won't be as boring as chapter 1.

**Chapter 2:**

**What About Family and Friends?**

Hermione awoke with a splitting headache and groaned. However, the deep resonance that was produced brought back the horrific memories of his encounter with one of the Jusenkyo springs.

"Shhhhh," rang the soft voice of Mrs. Granger. She placed her hand on Hermione's shoulder and placed a small kiss on his forehead.

Hermione relaxed in the hotel bed – yes, he was perfectly aware of where he was. The paintings on the wall were obviously from the hotel. He didn't want to face what needed to be faced – not yet. He wanted to fall back asleep and wake up back in London.

"You've slept for nearly twenty minutes," Mrs. Granger quietly said. She looked at Hermione with concern etched in every inch of her face. "How do you feel?"

Hermione cast his eyes upon his mother, not wanting to speak. That voice would sound again – it was so foreign, so unlike what it was.

This, of course, worried his mother even more. She got her son into an upright position with her left arm around his back. Her right hand moved slowly to the night stand next to the bed and grasped a cup of peppermint tea. Hermione graciously accepted the drink and sipped it slowly and without uttering a sound.

Mrs. Granger looked on silently. She obviously didn't want to upset Hermione by discussing the current situation immediately, but knew it couldn't be avoided.

As Hermione sipped at the drink, he noticed his hands. They had grown a bit since the transformation, and were a lot harrier. It disgusted him.

Nevertheless, he did sum up enough courage to open his mouth and say, as quietly and as quickly as possible, what he wanted to know most: "How do I change back?"

Mrs. Granger took a deep breath and very slowly began to explain the situation to him. "Unfortunately, there's no way to change you back permanently…" she paused momentarily, giving this bit of information time to sink in "…but you can change back temporarily. Cold water will force you into this form, but warm or hot water will change you back."

Hermione nodded his head slowly and bent it down towards the cup, hiding all emotions from his mother. He was glad that mother wasn't completely broken up over this, but that didn't change the fact that his life was now changed forever! His only hope would be that a cure would lie somewhere in the wizarding world.

It wasn't fair! He could once see a hopeful future looming beyond the darkness present, but now all he could see was a life ruled by this curse.

"When you finish your tea," his mother started again, "you can take a nice warm shower and change into some dry clothes."

_"I'm still wearing the clothes from earlier!"_ Hermione suddenly realized. _"They must've grown with my body. I know for sure that it grew a little bit during the transformation!"_ He began to drink his tea quicker until he noticed that his father was nowhere present.

"Where's Dad?" he asked, a bit slower and louder this time.

"He said that he needed to be alone for a bit. I think he blames himself for this."

"It wasn't his fault! It's the fault of those stupid construction workers! What on earth were they thinking?"

"It wasn't their fault, either. Some dynamite went off on accident; they're extremely sorry for what happened."

"Will Dad be okay?"

"I'm sure he will be. Just give him some time."

Hermione finished his tea silence and headed off to the shower, a new pair of clothes, very much like the others, in hand. He looked in the mirror: his face was much more broad now, and the bones around his eyes had shifted slightly. He noticed his increase in height, too, and reckoned that he was approximately as tall as his father. His shoulders were also very broad, and he noticed that his entire upper body was just bulkier.

He wondered what kind of magic could do this sort of thing. He had to admit it was fascinating, or at least it would be if it had happened to anybody other than himself! He swore to learn more about it when he got back to Hogwarts.

That reminded him of his friends. What would Harry and Ron think? Would they understand? Would they even bother to help him find a cure? What would the other students think? Could he hide it from them? So many things happened at Hogwarts, who's not to say that he might not come into contact with cold water in front of an entire classroom?

Not wanting to think about it, he closed his eyes and undressed, entered the shower, and turned on the water. The instant the warm water touched his body, he felt it changing back into his old self. She opened her eyes and sighed when it was all over. She decided to spend the rest of the day avoiding too many thoughts about her curse and to focus on making life for her parents bearable.

She scrubbed herself clean and dressed. She glanced back into the mirror on her way out and noticed the same face she was used to seeing; the same slender form and the same height she was used to.

She stepped into the main room to find her dad sitting at the desk with his head in his hands and her mother with her hand placed gently on his shoulder. She felt guilty. She knew it wasn't her fault exactly, but that she was the reason for her father's pain. Her mother gave her a don't-say-anything-that-might-upset-your-father look, so instead she walked over to him and threw her arms around him.

She startled him for a second, but when he realized it was his daughter, he turned to face her, tears smeared around his eyes. He pulled her into a loving embrace and apologized. She assured him that she was fine, though.

Within a few days, the Grangers were flying back home, and Hermione felt that her father was feeling much better. Yesterday, she had made him take her sight-seeing, just so that she could liven his spirits up some.

Upon arriving at home, she found a letter from Ron. She really didn't expect one from Harry, as he was probably extremely depressed.

Dear Hermione,

I haven't heard from Harry all summer! I've probably sent him one hundred letters so far, and he hasn't responded to one! Mum says I should leave him be for a bit, but do you think it's natural for him to be ignoring us like this?

Well, anyway, I hope that your vacation is going well. Dad hopes that you took pictures of the plane – he says he's always wanted to see those things in action.

Ron

On instinct, Hermione pulled out her quill and a piece of parchment and pondered what to write.

Dear Ron,

I don't think that Harry is ignoring us; he probably just doesn't want to talk to us right now. It's perfectly normal for someone in a situation like that to want to be left alone. We all felt a certain attachment for Sirius, but unlike us, he was all that Harry had! Send him letters occasionally, but don't bombard him with them!

She put down the quill and wondered if she should tell him about the curse. It would probably be easier to tell him in a letter than to bring it up while they were at school. She thought on this for a while before deciding to warn him in the letter, and then bring it up later. She added:

I also have some news for you and Harry, but I don't know if now would be a good time to bring it up. I'll tell you about it later.

With love,

Hermione

In a moments notice, the letter was on its way to Ron. And before she new it, it was time to purchase school books!

All right, that one ended up just as boring as the first chapter, but, hey, on the bright side, I think I'm getting better at working out this female psychology thing. Then again, I had a little tiny bit of help… Anyway, I'm getting tired of writing such serious stuff! I'm going to try to make it more humorous, since that's what I do best of all. Yep, humor and action/adventure is my forte. This is my first fanfic I'm posting on the web, and probably one of my worst ones, too! I've never written angst or from a female's perspective, so I hope I'm doing okay. Review!


	3. In Which the Trio Reunites

**Note:** I started this story several years ago, when I was still in high school, in fact, and it has sat on the Internet ever since. However, due to popular demand (I'm joking, although I have received some nice reviews), I have picked up the story again. I can't remember exactly which way I was going with it, and, unfortunately, this chapter reflects that. There's not much dialogue until the very end, and I was basically spending my time trying to refamiliarize myself with the characters, setting, and the situation I had set up. Hopefully, it'll really start to take direction soon and become less boring, more witty, and actually entertaining.

**Disclaimer:** Well, some time has gone by and I still own neither. Alas, I'm destined to revel in the works of other authors while still waiting to debut my own, original work.

**Chapter 3:**

**In Which the Trio Reunites**

Diagon Ally was as busy as ever. Witches and wizards of all ages and professions ambled about, each with his own purpose in mind, yet constantly taking the time to gossip with strangers on the streets. Hermione had managed to keep her condition in the back of her mind, mostly for her parents' sake, and by now the Jusenkyou curse had become second nature to her. Her mind was, once again, with studying, and with hoping that this new year would carry some joy with it. Sirius' death was still fresh in her mind, but she knew that for Harry to get over it, his friends would have to at least act like they were getting over it.

Her parents accompanied her, as usual, her father's eyes warily eyeing the magical folk as they walked. Normally, this was out of fear of the unknown, for there was a lot that Hermione kept to herself about her new world, and it upset her parents a great deal. However, this year was different. Mr. Granger seemed to be protecting his daughter, staying as close to her as a lion to her cubs. His eyes darted all over the cramped allies, scrutinizing everything they saw, one hand clamped tightly over his daughter's shoulder.

Naturally, this annoyed Hermione quite a bit, if only because it made her feel so guilty for what happened in China, and for her own father's guilt. She's already endured a lengthy lecture about not letting people judge her or harass her if they should find out what had become of her. Firstly, she never had any intention of allowing anyone to bug her. She'd managed to pick up scores of insulting nicknames wherever she went, and she knew how to deal with them. All her life she had been a know-it-all, a snooty academic, and even some much stronger and deeply offensive names, including Mudblood. Heck, even Harry and Ron didn't have a good first impression of her!

Despite it all, though, she felt deeply touched. For a long time she had thought that she was slipping away from her parents. She figured that they neither understood her nor had continued to really care about her after she started Hogwarts. As a defense mechanism, she chose to stay away from the Muggle world as often as possible, afraid of her parents' judgments of a world they didn't understand. Now, she felt bad that she hadn't spent more time with them. The skiing trip over Christmas that she'd missed, their trip to France – it was all her parents way of trying to reconnect with her, and she had simply missed it, or ignored it.

She strolled from shop to shop, eagerly buying her schoolbooks, plus a little extra reading. Normally, she would have done this way ahead of time, but had spent her time in Chine instead. At the very least, she figured, no matter how many books she bought it would never amount to all the books she had to buy to fit her rigorous class schedule in her third year. It made her tired just thinking about that awful Time Turner.

It wasn't long before she spotted both Ron and Harry gazing dreamily into Quality Quidditch Supplies, eyeing up the latest brooms, no doubt.

_How shallow,_ she thought, _placing so much value on a stupid sport._

Haughtily, she strode up to them, and, seeing as how they were way to involved with their Quidditch fantasies to acknowledge her, she loudly cleared her throat and shook her head disapprovingly at their startled faces.

"Don't you have anything better to do than to stare at a broomstick? I have several at home used for cleaning, but you two might find them attractive." She smiled at them, having gotten the first tease of the school year in.

"Whatever," Ron replied. He was always short on witty comebacks.

"So, how was China?" Harry asked, quick to start a conversation.

"Later," Hermione replied, before striking up a debate over Elfish welfare and how it had changed since she began S.P.E.W.

She couldn't talk to Harry and Ron in such a crowded area, especially with her parents' attempted eavesdropping several feet behind her. Besides, she still wasn't entirely sure how to explain it to them. Gender was a very sensitive topic. At Hogwarts, dorms were separated by gender, and how she was going to get around that would be tricky, and, as a general social rule, Hogwarts girls would normally find themselves gathered in gossip groups, chatting about other shallow things, such as boys and dating – things Hermione was simply uninterested in at the time. Boys, on the other hand, sat in groups to talk about Quidditch stars and which girls they thought were hot, which Hermione also had no interest in. She wasn't ever really sure where she fit in within Hogwarts' social spectrum, especially now.

Also, it would be hard to find a way to get it out without appearing either desperate or detached. She'd worked on a brief explanation, which slowly shaped itself into a monologue of sorts. Hermione had a reputation of being extremely level-headed, and also of not showing too many emotions, and definitely of keeping personal problems swept nicely under the rug, so she would have to present her situation in a very factual way, to avoid an outburst, anyway. However, she didn't want Harry and Ron to think she was growing detached from reality, either, and they tended to jump to conclusions far too quickly anyway, so being 100 factual might also prove to be a flaw.

"Face it, Hermione," Ron explained, his voice very annoyed, "House Elves don't want to be free. They're crazy creatures who live to serve and be beaten down!"

"How can you say that?!" Hermione shouted. "They're only like that because of hundreds of years of ingraining that kind of mentality into their brains! You have no idea what sort of potential they could unleash if they only could break away from that brainwashed state!"

Harry chose to stay back and keep his mouth shut. Hermione, while rational, often let her own moral desires and affections choose her ethical actions for her. It was these rare moments that reason seemed to leave her in favor of a more emotional approach to the world's problems. Harry simply didn't feel that he had time to worry about House Elves. Voldemort could strike again at any time, and although the Ministry of Magic was well aware of his existence, they chose to simply pretend he wasn't there.

"Stickin' up for a bunch of servants, Granger?" came a familiar, snobbish voice. Sure enough, Draco Malfoy stood directly behind them, his two lumbering minions on either side of him.

"At least I _can_ stick up for something," Hermione retorted.

Instinctively, both Ron and Harry moved to Hermione's side in a defensive position. Harry walked straight up to Malfoy, tired of his constant belittling, and just not in the mood to take any crap from a boy who was proud of his father's evil alliances. Seething with anger, Harry withdrew his wand and held it threateningly under Draco's throat.

Draco smirked and laughed to himself, neither of his henchmen worried in the slightest.

"What'cha gonna do, Potter?" he asked, his tone mocking and belittling the other boy. "Finish me off, eh? I'd love to see the headlines."

In the distance, the Grangers were watching intently, and Mrs. Granger had wrapped her arm around her husband's waste to prevent him from doing anything rash.

Ron put his hand on Harry's shoulder and jerked him back. "Come on," he said, "We don't have to defend ourselves against rubbish."

The trio turned away from Malfoy, from Diagon Ally, and from the two Grangers. They boarded the train and began their journey to Hogwarts.

_Well, how was it? Wait, don't answer that. More coming, maybe it'll get good, or maybe it'll be destined to a life of obscurity._


	4. Another Year Begins

**Chapter 4**

**Another Year Begins**

_Disclaimer: Still don't own either Harry Potter or Ranma ½. I'm thinking that I might try and win the lottery to buy out the rights to Ranma ½, get rich off that, then tackle Harry Potter, although JKR might be too attached to ever sell the rights. Nooooooooooo!_

The train to Hogwarts rolled along gracefully down the tracks, never stopping before it would reach its destination. Ginny had caught up with the three and they all had found a compartment where the four could chat in relatively good privacy. Harry and Ron sat slumped against their seats while Ginny and Hermione chatted about teachers, tests, and the usual. The table separating them was filled with treats from the trolley, from which they all snacked upon.

"You never got around to telling us how China was," Ron said, interrupting Hermione's long monologue about Gryffindor's history, most of it a compilation of passages written in _Hogwarts: A History_.

Hermione took a deep breath and calmly and casually explained, "We went to visit Jusenkyou."

"Something I actually know about!" Ron explained, once again interrupting. "Charlie was transferred there once. Got himself out pretty quick, though."

"What's Jusenkyou?" Harry asked, once again proving his complete lack of geographical knowledge, foreign knowledge, and a lack of interest to learn about them.

Hermione opened her mouth to explain, but was cut off by Ginny this time. "Jusenkyou is a vast serious of springs, each with their own bizarre curse. If you fall into one, you transform into whatever last drowned there whenever cold water touches your skin. Hot water changes you back."

"Anyway," Hermione said, her voice clearly annoyed now, "the thing is…I…fell in."

"_You_?" Harry asked incredulously. "Clumsy" would not be in a list of words Harry could use to describe Hermione.

"It wasn't my fault!" Hermione retorted. She tried to explain the construction and blasts, but, while Harry understood perfectly, neither Ron nor Ginny could grasp what it meant.

"So, which spring did you land in?" Ron asked, a smirk now stretched across his playful face.

Harry watched as Hermione suddenly bit her lip and her cheeks turned a ferocious red color. She was staring down at her hands, her thumbs twiddling in her lap. He'd never seen her act like that before, and he didn't know whether to be bemused or genuinely worried. Whatever it was, it couldn't have been bad, he thought. I mean, what if it was a cat, dog, or some other animal? To him, that simply meant that she had become something of an off-beat animagus.

"Spring of Drowned Boy," she muttered. She saw Ron's jaw drop and his eyes grow wide. He began to move his mouth, as though he was searching for something to say, and Hermione braced herself for one of his retarded comments, yet none came. Since Ron was successfully keeping his mouth clear of his foot, she turned to Harry, who was watching her intently, though unsure of what to say. Ginny, on the other hand, was now also a bright red color, and Hermione didn't even want to know what sort of mental images might be floating through her head!

"Did you tell Dumbledoor?" Harry asked, already knowing the answer. Hermione was always quick to inform the teachers of any sort of change, even turning in Harry's Firebolt when she thought it would ensure his safety.

"I did, but he said there wasn't much to be done. I told him I didn't expect him to do anything, but thought that it wasn't something I should inform him of anyways."

Her friends' minds were now burning with questions, but they couldn't find a polite and unobtrusive way to word them. Would she date? Deliberately avoid certain Potions classes? Maybe even some of Hagrid's classes? Skipping class was definitely not characteristic of Hermione, but it was hard to tell how much stress she was under, especially when she tried so hard to hide it.

The rest of the ride was rather silent, only a few small conversations taking place, though even they felt awkward and forced. Hermione, however, was quite relieved at the silence, for she had expected a much more irrational reaction. She was able to calmly eat, and, occasionally, provide useful input in their brief conversations. The only downside was that she was keenly aware that her friends were watching her every move, as though they thought they could catch a hint of something odd about her – something that would give her away. It's not like she ever expected for things to stay the same between them after the curse, but she was immediately hurt by their complete lack of understanding.

At long last, they arrived at Hogwarts and once again beheld the magnificent castle that would become their homes for the long winter season. Its flags blowing proudly in the wind, it's great doors opened wide to accept the onslaught of students, and its familiar halls waiting to be explored again. They went through the usual tradition of feasting, sorting, and going straight to bed, after having given a brief introduction to the new students, of course.

Hermione enclosed herself in her bed, the curtains pulled tightly around her. She was glad to be back, and had prepared herself for a brief study session before classes started the next day. However, concentration was difficult, partly because she had a difficult time seeing herself as a female in a room with a bunch of other females. She felt changed, as though she had no right to be in the girls' dorm.

_Now I'm definitely not thinking clearly,_ she thought to herself. _Sleep deprivation does nasty things to one's mind._ With a slam of the book, she fell immediately into slumber and slipped into anxious dreams.

A jump on her bed awakened her with a jerk, and she saw the blurred image of Parvati and Lavender now seated comfortably on the end of her bed, the sunlight streaming in behind them. Rubbing her eyes, their overtly cheerful faces greeted her as they laughed and giggled about her restless sleep.

"You were kicking all over the place!" Lavender exclaimed, still chuckling about it. "I kept watching to see if you'd roll right out, but I don't think you ever even hit the bed curtains."

"I thought you were going to wake up the whole dorm!" Parvati announced.

Hermione sighed; it was too early for this. After a brief speech about not waking her up unless she was going to be late for something, as unlikely as that might be, she ushered the two girls out and proceeded to dress into her uniform, half wondering how awkward it would look if she turned into a boy while wearing a girl's uniform. Pushing the absurd thought into the back of her mind, she decided to go about the day as normal.

Harry and Ron were already eating by the time she reached the Great Hall. Their mouths were stuffed full of caramel rolls, and Luna was sitting as close as she could while still technically remain at Ravenclaw's table, quietly picking at her meager meal. She was intently reading _The Quibbler_, all the students around her occasionally giving her odd glances, some of which could be read as downright contempt.

The hot topic of conversation was Bill and Fleur's engagement. Hermione and Ginny quickly confirmed their joint agreement that the marriage was unsuitable, though Ron and Harry were perfectly positioned to defend Bill's decision to marry the French girl. Of course, Harry's best argument was that she was a great athlete – good enough to get into the Triwizard Tournament, as though that was some sort of test of character.

After the brief argument, Hermione, Ron, Harry, and Neville all took the free time that breakfast allowed to compare schedules. They all had Potions class, taught by Professor Slughorn this year, and the class would enable Ron and Harry to aim for careers as Aurors. Neville had a herbology class with Hermione, and Harry and Ron had yet another class together. Harry noticed that Hermione was making it a point to avoid any Divination classes this year, too.

"None of us are taking Care of Magical Creatures," Harry noticed. The four peered at their schedules and felt a twinge of guilt. Hagrid was a good man, but his class was just…

Quidditch would be starting soon as well, and the Gryffindor table was lively discussing their upcoming season, Hermione and Neville content to discuss things of more value than the superfluous fanaticism surrounding the sport.

Dumbledoor stood to give his famous speech, talking about the new security restrictions and places the utmost emphasis on following them. The students were then dismissed to either their classes or Common Room, depending on what their schedule was.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione found themselves sitting in the Common Room alone while their classmates played with what Hermione had a sneaking suspicion was banned goods in their dorms. However, prefect as she now was, even she was not allowed into the boys' dorm.

"_Unless…"_ she thought, teasing the idea of using her curse to her advantage. However, she figured it wasn't worth it. Not only would it bring on embarrassment, but it would also be a very awkward situation, and the boys definitely wouldn't trust her, or even like her, afterwards.

"I noticed that you could drink orange juice at breakfast," Ron said.

"Drinking cold things does nothing," Hermione said, idly flipping through her _Runes of the Ancients_ book.

"What are you going to do when people find out?" Harry asked, trying to take his mind off of all the things Dumbledoor had related to him during his trip to the Burrow.

Dumbledoor had explained The Prophecy to Harry, and, he had discovered, the news was pretty common knowledge now that Harry was The Chosen One.

Hermione placed the book aside and folded her hands on her lap, her eyes staring at the wall in a fashion that resembled Luna, except that it was plain as day that the cogs of Hermione's brain was working overtime.

"I'm not sure," she admitted. "I figured I'd just wait and see what happens.

"My particular curse is interesting in that it doesn't handicap me in any way. I can still function as any normal human does, yet I'm not sure how everyone else will react to it."

"The girls in your dorm might freak," said Ron, slightly bemused by notion. "What bathroom are you going to use?"

Hermione was clearly annoyed with Ron now. She wasn't sure whether he was trying to be funny or whether he was actually quite serious, but his foot was now so far down his throat, she was certain that he'd find shoe laces in his stools. Retrieving the book, she stormed off to her Runes class, nearly slamming the Common Room doors behind her.

_"I can't believe Ron can be so insensitive!"_ She took her seat as the boring lesson commenced.

Professor Babbling immediately started in on the lesson, drawing a series of runes for the class to read, all of them for the students to review. "We won't be tackling any new runes," she explained as she wrote, "because I highly doubt many of you have actually taken the opportunity to study over summer break!" She paused for a minute and took the time to smile at Hermione, knowing full well that she had kept her runes studies up while the other students didn't.

The review continued endlessly, class ending with a worksheet that needed to be translated and tons of review reading. Hermione knew she couldn't skip it, although she desperately wanted to, knowing that Snape's class was coming up next.

Defense Against the Dark Arts began immediately afterwards with Potions following. **(Note: while these are interesting classes with information that may or may not directly relate to my rewriting of the story, you can easily read about these classes in the book, and I will NOT rewrite them at this time. This chapter's already way too long and tedious.)**

After class, Ron joined up with Harry and Hermione, the latter still displeased with is earlier remark.

"I was just trying to lighten the mood," Ron pleaded.

"The mood was fine and didn't need to be lightened," Hermione retorted.

A student rushed by, carrying an overflowing flask of what was obviously a Weasley's _Gas_tronomical Potion. She held out her arm and signaled for the student to hand it over. As much as she hated it, almost all of Fred and George's inventions were now banned from the campus.

The young Slytherin started, then jerked and threw the flask against the stone wall, running away giddily as the potion spattered all over the wall and trio. Hermione knew what was coming next; the pain in her stomach had already begun, and her body began to ache all over for but a few short moments before she felt almost entirely normal.

Harry and Ron noticed immediately what had happened. Mouths agape they stared, or rather gawked, at their friend. None of the three could find words to say, although they all knew very well that something like this would happen; they knew about the curse, yet it seemed so unreal when the time for it to reveal itself actually came. Hermione stood, his eyes slightly wet, his square jaw clenched tight, and two large hands fiercely clasping his books under his arms.

Without speaking, he stooped to clean up the mess, unwilling to address either Harry or Ron, and knowing that bringing Ron into a conversation could easily result in an argument, whether Ron would intend it or not. His large, hair covered hands swept the shards into a tiny pile, and with a wave of his wand they disappeared into nothingness. Then, without speaking, he whirled away, off to Myrtle's bathroom to change back, leaving Harry and Ron standing speechless behind him.

Trying to avoid hallways in which many students traveled, Hermione managed to successfully sneak into Myrtle's bathroom. He supported himself on the one of the faucets and decided that it would be okay to let out a few tears before collecting himself and heading back to the Common Room.

"Have another accident with some Polyjuice Potion?" came the familiar sound of Myrtle's voice. Her figure floated out of the stall behind him and came to hover by his side. "You manage to get yourself into an awful lot of trouble, don't you?"

Hermione wiped his eyes briskly, saying, "You have no right to pry into people's troubles."

"But you're in my bathroom," Myrtle retorted. "Besides, in the condition _you're_ in, wouldn't it be more proper to use the men's bathroom? Hearing a man in the girls' bathroom always reminds me of that horrible day!" Then, remembering the day she died, Myrtle wailed uncontrollably and flew back into her toilet with a magnificent splash.

Taking no more time to wallow in self-pity, Hermione washed his hands in the hot water and went straight to the Common Room where she was met by Ginny, Ron, and Harry, each of them chatting as though nothing had happened and beckoning her to sit with them.

"I'd watch yourself," said Ron, being unusually blunt and to the point.

"Do you think I just trotted around until I found a bathroom?" Hermione retorted.

Ginny put her arm around her. "Malfoy saw it happen," she said. "He threatened Harry to tell the whole school!"

Hermione looked like she might break down at first, but then suddenly shrugged her shoulders. "They'd find out anyway."

"You know that we'll be sticking up for you, right?" Harry said.

Hermione felt deeply touched by her friends' devotion. All her life she had never felt that before. She was always awkward from Muggle kindergarten on up, but now she felt that she had real friends. "I know," she said, a small smile finally etching her face.

Ginny thought for a few moments before laughing hysterically. "If Malfoy has the nerve to spread this around, I know a few good ways to get back at him!"

_Argh! I'm glad to be done with this chapter. Finally, some sort of direction, and a cheesy and crappy setup for comedy. Yes, this story tries to have it all – angst, drama, comedy! I'm admittedly in over my head, and still can't remember worth a darn where I was headed with this when I first started writing it. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it – if you were even able to read through it, that is. Of all the fan fiction I've written, I decide that the first one to put on the Internet should be the one that has proven to be the most challenging one to write thus far._


	5. Breakfast

Chapter 5

_Long time, no update. Well, I've fixed that pesky problem by finally deciding to take the time to continue this wayward story. Still not entirely sure what I'm trying to do with it; I'm hoping that it'll come to me naturally as I let the story unfold._

_This is a shorter chapter, because I'm working on several projects and I just wanted to let everyone know that this story hasn't been abandoned._

**Chapter 5**

**Breakfast**

Hermione went to bed feeling strangely confident. When she first heard that Malfoy had seen her, she felt sick at her stomach. Now, however, she didn't care either way. The student body would have found out eventually anyway, and it would soon be apparent as to what would happen afterwards. It was so strange to her, to feel so detached from the world. As the summer had gone by, she had come to put little emphasis on gender, but sometimes she grew so distant from the world that she felt only like an observer – someone living outside, but not inside. Her body meant little to her, and she yearned for a kind of isolation. Tonight, that is what was happening to her. She merely disassociated from the situation, knowing that she and her friends could deal with it when it happened.

The next day started off as usual. Breakfast with Harry and Ron, and then classes. Ancient Runes was quite boring. Hermione longed for the professor to move on to new material and skip all the review. Potions was easier than she remembered, probably due to the new professor and his much more positive teaching methods. Defense Against the Dark Arts was stressful, but with Snape teaching, there wasn't much room for optimism. However, even that class was more stressful than usual. By that time, Hermione knew something was up. She kept getting weird stares from the other students, and even Snape seemed to be glaring at her constantly.

It all erupted at lunch. Hermione sat with Ron and Harry, eating lunch she'd packed herself as a protest to the House Elves' labor. By this time, everyone seemed to be whispering to each other, casting furtive glances her way as she ate. It wasn't like she didn't notice; even Harry and Ron noticed, and that's saying something!

"Hermione," Ron whispered. "Do you want to leave? We can go to the library or something."

"No," was Hermione's firm reply. "I don't intend to let this curse run my life. I can stay and eat, and everyone else in this room will just have to put up with it."

Hermione reached for a second helping of turkey when a stream of water slammed into the back of her head. She tensed and let the transformation take place before continuing to eat. He knew perfectly well where the water had come from, and he was certainly not going to give Malfoy the pleasure of seeing him get upset over his immature antics.

"What's the matter, sir?" Malfoy said mockingly, his water glass still in his hand as he hovered over Hermione's shoulder, watching him eat. "Get wet."

Ron started to stand, his face red with fury, but Hermione's strong hand gripped his shoulder and forced him back down. A quick glare and Ron got the message, though his eyes were as hateful as ever.

_Don't speak,_ Hermione told himself as he continued to munch on his modest sandwhich. _Don't let Malfoy have his way._

Malfoy turned towards Ron, mentally noting his seething anger and a peculiar grin formed over his face. "What's up, Ron? Afraid your boyfriend might dump you?"

In an instant Ron was on Malfoy, the two boys sprawled over the floor. Hermione and Harry watched helplessly as the two kicked, punched, and shouted at each other, attracting the attention of all the houses. Each time Harry went to dive in, Hermione would pull him back. He knew that Harry's intentions were good, as he probably wanted to save Ron's pride, but if he got involved Gryffindor would pay steeply. Besides, Hermione reasoned, even Ron deserves to get his butt kicked when he goes out of line.

The fighting lasted only a few more moments before Professor McGonagall was upon them, clapping her hands together and staring hard at the boys. At the very least Ron had enough common sense to clamber immediately to his feet and face McGonagall. Malfoy joined him after a fit of moans and feigned injuries.

"Both of you know better!" she began, placing her own body between the two of them. "Fifty points from both houses! Now, who began this?" She glanced between the two of them, her cat-like eyes seemingly able to read both of their minds.

"Malfoy," Harry answered in Ron's stead.

"How?" McGonagall further pressed.

Hermione rose to his feet and looked his professor straight in her eye. She could already tell that this was going to be troublesome, as McGonagall was already trying to place the face before her with a name. The boy looked so familiar, she thought, yet she could've sworn she'd never seen him before.

"He splashed water on me," Hermione answered.

"Well," McGonagall laughed, "that's hardly reason enough to start a Muggle wrestling match! What's your name?"

There was a brief pause and Hermione drew a heavy breath, knowing full well that _everyone's_ eyes were now on her. "Hermione Granger," she said at last.


	6. New Uniforms

**Note: **_Ah, a new motivation! While working on works to be submitted to __Realms of Fantasy__, I decided to give myself a break by going back to this story. I wanted to apologize, for there were a few errors in my last chapter regarding pronouns. I'm not entirely sure if I can go back and change that (I'll find out shortly), but I wanted you guys to know that I am perfectly aware of that. I tend to only devote attention to this story late at night, so I often skip proofreading, and my tired mind isn't always able to put what I want to say on the page._

**Edit: **_I'm so glad that I learned how to do this! This chapter has been very slightly altered, thanks to the insights of my most loyal reader, deitarion/SSokolow, whose criticisms are always spot-on. Thus, the uttered words during the breakfast scene are now spoken by Draco Malfoy's closest companions (or goons), while the rest of the chatter is left ambiguous. I also added in a reference to giggles being heard, since at that point in time the transformation is hardly considered as little more than a prank by the other students. Enjoy! Especially now that it's more in-character than previously._

**Disclaimer: **_*sigh* I still don't own Harry Potter, but I think Mrs. Rowling should most definitely continue the series so I have some more cannon stuff to read! I suppose I should just admit that I also don't own Ranma ½, although to be perfectly honest, I can actually see myself coming up with an idea like that!_

**Chapter 6**

**New School Uniforms**

McGonagall's eyes widened and her jaw dropped, an expression that Hermione had never seen on a teacher before, let alone McGonagall. Even when she'd managed to change herself partially into a cat, no one seemed too terribly shocked by that fact, except for herself, of course.

McGonagall looked the boy over, her lips forming words that didn't vocalize. Only a moment more passed before murmurs could be heard echoing throughout the room. Since most of it sounded like garbled noises, the trio that stood before McGonagall were spared most of the talk, although they managed to catch a few emphasized words, spoken harshly by who Harry thought was either Crabbe or Goyle. "Freak," was one. Another was, "queer." Harry stole several furtive glances Hermione's way to see how he was reacting to the chatter (and the giggles), but Hermione stood as solid as a statue, his jaws locked and his bushy eyebrows furrowed over his stone-like eyes.

McGonagall very quickly regained her composure, and like an overprotective mother (or like a teacher who's about to hand a naughty student over to Filch), grabbed his arm and began to forcefully escort him from the hall, leaving Harry and Ron to answer the overwhelming barrage of student accusations and questions. Hermione very quickly glanced black and saw their downcast faces as they were slowly engulfed by a crowd of curious students from all houses and of all ages.

McGonagall continued to lead Hermione through the castle's drafty corridors, all the way up to the seventh floor. Her grip was tight and she didn't speak at all as the pair went until they came to the towers at last.

They stood before the gargoyle that would lead to Dumbledore's office and McGonagall turned Hermione towards herself, looking into his eyes with a sorrow that Hermione could've sworn he'd never seen before. Hermione didn't know how to respond – indeed, he hardly knew how to emotionally respond to situations at all anymore!

Luckily, he was spared the dilemma of trying to figure out what McGonagall expected of him when she asked, "What happened to you?" Her voice was stern, though Hermione was sharp enough to detect quivery undertones, as though the professor knew that while she was obligated to ask these questions, they were perhaps a touchy subject.

With minute facts and observations, Hermione once again told the tale of his trip to China, almost unconsciously rambling about the historical significance of Jusenkyou and its legends in the Muggle world.

As Hermione spoke, McGonagall heaved a sigh of relief. She had perhaps thought that Hermione might be psychologically traumatized by the experiences of Jusenkyou and the unfortunate incident at breakfast, but Hermione continued to ramble on in a matter-of-fact way, same as usual.

When he had finished, McGonagall spoke the password and the two started on their way into Dumbledore's office.

"I'm terribly sorry this happened," McGonagall said, her voice now much stronger, though less compassionate.

"It's not as bad as I thought it'd be," Hermione admitted, wondering to himself whether that was true, or whether he perhaps was just not allowing himself to think too deeply about it. He figured it to be the latter, however, from the look McGonagall immediately shot at him.

Moments later, the pair found themselves in Dumbledore's office, its ancient portraits looking on with curiosity amidst the various draped linings that hung majestically about the room. Ever since he was first admitted to Hogwarts, Hermione had thought that the office resembled a throne room more than it did a headmaster's office, it was lavish and strewn about all the walls were portraits of previous headmasters, still watching over the wizards' world long after their duty had been served.

Dumbledore, of course, was all that the pair of witches noticed. McGonagall stepped forward and began to speak with Dumbledore in a hushed voice after she had promptly ushered him out of hearing range. Hermione stood his ground, inwardly sighing.

_"Why do they have to talk in private like that?"_ he silently wondered. _"It's not like I can't guess what's being said; it's fairly obvious."_

He folded his arms and carefully looked about the room, his eyes falling on various artifacts from what appeared to be very old cultures. There was some pottery with ancient runes emblazoned on them, much like the ones he had studied in class. His time was then preoccupied with trying to mentally translate them, which was proving to be a difficult task. Like most of his other studies, Hermione had also memorized most of his Runes books, but translation as never an easy undertaking and the chore had soon engulfed all of his mental prowess.

Just as he thought he'd figured some of it out, Dumbledore interrupted by placing his hand over his shoulder.

"Your professor would be glad to know how much you study outside of class!" he exclaimed, following the boy's gaze over to his modest pottery collection.

"I'm sorry, but I didn't realize you had finished," Hermione said quickly.

"I was just about to talk to you about some changes that are going to be made, among other things, to ensure that something like the display at breakfast never happens again," Dumbledore exclaimed. "First of all, we'll have to let the student body know what's happened and clear up the rumors that undoubtedly bouncing about the corridors at this very moment."

Hermione nodded. That was a given.

"Second," Dumbledore said, a playful smirk now beginning to stretch across his face, "we'll be changing the school uniforms to a more unisex look."

Hermione blushed, not having realized how ridiculous he must look. Indeed, the sight of a tall, broad-shouldered and very masculine young man dressed in a standard girl's uniform, complete with a skirt and nylons, of course, was probably a very disturbing sight.

Dumbledore just laughed, taking little note of Hermione's bright red face, while McGonagall remained standing solemnly by the door, her face still aghast.

Dumbledore quickly left the room and reentered with a glass of water. "Here," he said, handing the warm drink to Hermione.

He politely dipped his finger into the warm water and allowed the transformation to come over him again, reverting him to her normal female self.

"You may rest in the hospital wing for a minute while I address the students," Dumbledore continued, nodding thoughtfully at McGonagall.

Hermione politely nodded her head and exited calmly, her casual steps quickening to a jog as she dashed towards the hospital wing, relieved. It would be much easier on everyone if she didn't have to keep her condition a secret, and with Harry and Ron by her side, she would be able to cope with just about anything. The other students probably wouldn't leave her alone, she figured, but when did she ever have a smooth year at Hogwarts?

Her light feet seemed to float up the steps and down the drafty corridor that led straight to the double doors of the hospital wing. As the doors glided open, Madam Pomfrey came into view. She stared down her nose at Hermione as though trying to see what sort of injury she was sporting today.

"What sort of trouble have you gotten yourself into now, Ms. Granger? It's hardly been a week!" Pomfrey asked, her voice a little more than a groan.

"None, actually, save for a small accident," Hermione replied.

"Well," said Madam Pomfrey as she scurried towards a large medicine cabinet, "take a seat."

Hermione chuckled to herself. "It's not something you need to trouble yourself over," she said. Seeing Madam Pomfrey's curious look, she added, "I'm only here because Dumbledore asked me to wait."

The matron nodded and went back to straightening the sheets on the beds, checking the curtains, and otherwise trying to preoccupy herself as best as she could, sometimes muttering to herself, "Well, I suppose it should be a good thing that I haven't had a single patient yet this year…"

Hermione wondered over to a long mirror in the corner and looked herself over. She couldn't help but blush, thinking of herself as a man and standing there in a girl's school uniform. The little skirt that ended just above her knees was probably very unflattering to her appearance, she figured. She never paid much attention to her appearance, preferring people to judge her based on merit instead, but she was kicking herself in the behind for this one!

"So," said Madam Pomfrey as she busily turned the corner, "what little accident did you have, if you don't mind me asking?"

Without hesitation, and in a very casual manner, she replied, "Oh, I fell into Jusenkyou."

"You what?" Madam Pomfrey asked, slightly bewildered.

"I fell into Jusenkyou."

"Ah, so someone has to keep an eye out for the rain now, eh?"

Hermioned nodded and took a seat at the edge of one of the beds. She wondered what was happening in the great hall with Dumbledore trying to explain everything to the students. She could just see the teachers' flustered faces, Malfoy's sickish grin, and her friends' downcast faces. In some small ways, it amused her. In other ways, she was very glad that she could hide in the hospital wing. She knew that this year's turmoil would probably stem from the strange looks she'd be getting, the whispered comments made behind her back, and the trouble of remaining female throughout the days.

_"Snape is going to have a ball with this one,"_ she thought to herself. She could just imagine what was going through his mind at that very moment.

As she started to lose herself in a daydream, Ron bolted into the room. "C'mon! If you're late for class, you'll kill me!" he cried. He shoved her books into her lap and turned.

"How long did ago did the meeting end?" Hermione asked as the pair raced out of the doors.

"About fifteen minutes ago," Ron muttered. "I forgot where Dumbledore said to find you!"

Hermione quickly picked up the pace and flew past Ron. _"Idiot,"_ she thought, though she was unable so suppress a tiny smile.

_Another chapter done at long last. I just had to sit down and make myself do it. I might try quickening the pace soon, but for now this is it. It's also been a while since I've read the books, so I'm beating my head against the desk trying to remember the names of characters, where certain places are located, etc. Thank you, HP-Lexicon, for existing!_


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